


DMLE 99 (but mostly just drarry, cuz they are the idiots.)

by cryptive



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Inspired by Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 07:04:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17741186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptive/pseuds/cryptive
Summary: basically just imaginations of drarry/ dmle in b99 situations.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (how to portray??? Actions with words??? Pls just use ur imagination. Thank.)  
> also like obviously not all of them are iconique scenes from b99, some are just...stuff i find funny.  
> also im here cuz tumblr is doing the word restriction thing. but better tagging and stuffs here so its better here anyways.

Harry has been combing through 40 boxes of evidence for what must be about 20 hours straight when it happened.

See, in his defence, he is overworked, jittery (from the coffee that Ron brewed using Pepper-up instead of water) and he has no control over his brain (that’s just Harry Potter au naturel).

It was some ungodly hour between midnight and daybreak (where you think you hear birds chirping but turns out you are just hallucinating from the lack of sleep), when someone levitated a perp in a full body bind into the holding cell. The interesting part was that the person had straight waist length blond hair that frankly looked too perfect to be real, and a dress that looked more like an artfully draped piece of shimmery cloth held onto the person’s shoulders with two thin ribbons. Oh and heels, very high, very sharp heels. Harry briefly wondered if it was some sort of Pepper-up slash I-watched-a-porn-that-im-too-embarrased-to-admit-i-like-so-i-repressed-it-and-now-it-is-haunting-me induced fever dream.

“Ron. Ron.” Harry elbowed the guy urgently, jostling the stack of paper Ron has been staring (not reading) at for the past certain amount of time.

“Huh?” Ron says, his eyes are still somewhat glazed over.

“Who’s that?” Harry says almost too loudly, pointing at the person, that is now over at the forms table, talking to Amanda that’s on duty.

“Oh. That’s Draco.” Ron says, finally reabsorbing his soul from a virtual holiday in the Caribbean Islands. “He went out with Clemens to track down a lead. He’s handing the case too, you know?”

Harry stares, trying to reconcile the image of Draco in his head with the person he sees. (He looks like his soul just went on a virtual holiday in the Caribbean Islands.)

A beat later, he seems to snap out of it, eyes widen in epiphany (probably just Pepper-up overdose) and says, way too loudly, “Fuck, I wish I’m a case so Draco can handle me.”

Ron, whose soul took a U-turn and headed back to the Carribbean, stares for two blinks, and shrugs, “Sure.”

Amanda stares, too keenly aware of the odd tension.

The other few stragglers are writing interdepartmental memo faster than they had done anything since the sun have set.

“Fuck you, Potter. The only handle you are getting is a broom handle up your ass.” The person yells from across the room. And yep that is Draco, who is mildly sloshed and also cranky from being cold and not punching cat-callers for the past 3 hours.

 

\o/

 

“What do you mean it is not your Niffler?” Harry enunciates his each of his words, the cheap plastic pen bending under his tight grip. The pickpocket is being particularly stubborn, giving him the most ridiculous story that is blatantly full of holes.

“I don’t own a niffler, bruv. I swear someone slipped it into my hoodie pocket when I was in the store.” The young man says, rolling his eyes. “I’ve said it a thousand times.”

“Right. Someone slipped a-” Harry checked the creature examination slip that the Magical Creatures Department sent him, “extremely overweight Niffler, into your front pocket, without you noticing any changes in…perhaps…the stretch of your clothing?”

“Exactly.” Harry forces a smile and jots it down, pen slightly tearing the paper.

Draco is usually better at this, and speaking of the devil, Harry spots Draco walking past, holding onto a stack of folders.

“Hey, Draco.” Harry calls out, “Did you get my file on the Kipps murder case?”

“I did. Very impressive solve, and neat paperwork too. Good work, Potter.” Draco replies.

“Nice. Thanks, babe.” Harry says, turning back to the pickpocket.

The pickpocket stares back.

Harry notices the silence that fell across the usually bustling bull pen. Someone’s unattended owl hoots and coos.

Draco is smirking, but his ears are really red.

"Why is everyone staring at me?” Harry says, looking distrustfully at the pickpocket, who –how dare he- shrugs.

“Mate, you just called Draco 'babe'.” Ron says. Harry distinctly feels his soul trying to finish what Voldemort started. Pravin and McGuffin snickers.“You said ‘thanks babe.’”

“No, I didn’t. I said thanks dude.” Harry says, feeling significantly like a liar. He thinks of the dozen of roses he ordered for Valentine’s day and the organic dried fruits that he had to get shipped from overseas.

Draco saunters, yes, saunters closer, parking his ass on the desk opposite Harry’s. Draco stares at him for a beat longer than necessary, Harry resists the urge to check for crumbs on his shirt. “Potter, I didn’t know you think of me like that.”

Draco sounds like when he gets the last creampuff in the break room, but only because he had stolen it from McGuffin’s plate when the other was distracted by looking for creamer packets that Draco had tossed behind the microwave.

“I didn’t!” Harry says indignant.

“You said it loud and clear, buddy.” The pickpocket pipes up.

“You shut up. You have been lying for the past hour.” Harry snaps.

Draco leans back, supporting his weight with one hand on the desk. His shirt stretches across his chest.

Harry does not look. Harry wishes for an Erumpent to trample him. He knows they just brought one in this morning.

The pickpocket shrugs. “Fine, fine. I’ve been lying about the whole thing. The niffler is Baller and she’s not overweight, she’s beautiful.”

“Aha! He confessed! It was my plan to trick him into telling the truth all along!” Harry tries to reason.

The entire office somehow snorted at the same time.

Harry looks wildly at Draco.

Draco smiles wide, maybe too wide. “If you say so, dear. Let’s go for dinner tonight at 7. Don’t be late.”

And he winks.

Harry stares. Draco knows. Draco knows?

Clemens and Nguyen are arguing about who won the wager, though not as quietly as they think they are doing. Half of the office joins in. Harry doesn’t know what they are betting on but he is pretty sure he somehow lost.

“Remember to go to the loo before the date. You look like you’d piss yourself.” The pickpocket says, smug, despite just being booked for attempted robbery of a jewelry store.

“Shut the fuck up.” Harry hisses, filling out the rest of the form with forced concentration.

(The date was amazing and he didn’t piss himself so Mr My-Niffler-Is-Hot-Thick-And-Fit can go fuck himself.)

\o/


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh i try to keep these in generally chronological order....but idk. its whatever rly.  
> also think of the b99 theme song when u get to the end of a portion, so the abrupt stop makes sense.

“What did you get Hermione for Valentine’s Day tomorrow?” Draco asks, lowering the magical signature scanner.

“A 5-year, VIP tier, subscription to a research paper website thing. She’s using her work email for the account now but there’s no access to certain sensitive topics.” Ron replies, taking a huge bite from the stacked burger. 

Draco scrunches his nose, the smell of Double Bacon, Triple Grilled Patty is delicious but also it is 9 in the morning and Draco has a delicate digestive system thanks to whatever that passed for aristocratic dining habits. He sips at his tea, tapping his fingers on the side of the reusable coffee cup. 

They are staking out a muggle convenience store for a case that involved malignant experiments on muggles via magical contamination. And apparently whoever the perp is decided to try the 1982 poison pills murder ala magic.

“Mione is doing a research on Necromancy and the Cultural Significance between European Countries. It’s interesting, gory but also it really makes sense sometimes, you know? It also shows how a lot of cultural practices are forcefully eradicated cause of war and what not.” Ron goes on a spiel, pausing in between to chew.

Draco gives him a side-eye. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Ron stares at him and swallows. “What are you getting, Harry?”

“Getting Harry…for?” Draco replies, holding up the scanner to the convenience store as he sees a lady pocketing her wand after coming out from a nearby alley.

“For Valentine’s Day? You guys are together right?” Ron says, stuffing the last of the burger into his mouth. The scanner shows ambient magic as the lady walked around, picked out cheap wine and clearance cheese, paid with crumpled bill and headed back to the alley where she first arrived.

Draco puts down the scanner and takes a long sip of this tea. “I didn’t. We are taking it casual. Just dinner and then museum exhibit.”

Ron looked scandalised. “Just saying, Harry got you something.”

“The exhibit tickets?” Draco says nonchalantly, while thinking _Fuck you, Potter. Plans are plans, you git._

“Ch-It’s a surprise.” Ron almost slipped up. He points at an impeccably dressed man carrying a briefcase that just slipped into the store. “Scan him.”

Draco does. The man’s briefcase showing up as a bright flare on the scanner. Draco puts down his cup and nodded at Ron. The man shuffles around the drinks aisle, before transferring something (probably the tampered products as the items also shows up as bright flares on the scanner) from his briefcase to the shelfs.

They get out the car in a flurry, while the man moves around replacing a few more items.

Ron casts anti-apparition spells as he passes the threshold, walking towards the counter and flashing his charmed badge. “Police business, please stay down sir.”

Draco walks towards the row where he can see the perp, wand drawn. “DMLE. You are under arrest.”

The perp tries to apparate, only to stumble, realising that he can’t and breaks into a run in the cramped store. Draco quickly casts a full body bind and the man falls, dragging down a cardboard shelf full of assorted flavoured, family –sized packs of crisps.

Ron walks over and wrestles the wriggling bundle of a man into a standing position while Draco tries to clean up the mess.

“Oh man, Harry loves those.” He says, looking at Draco who is arranging the crisps back onto the shelf. “It’s two for one too.”

Draco keeps the last four in hand (one of each flavour) and pays for it after obliviating the cashier. He got the largest bar of chocolate they have too.

-

“Draco! You said no gifts!” Harry exclaimed when Draco parks a large paper bag on top of Harry’s least leaning stack of files.

“You owled a dozen of roses and a whole box of the organic snacks I like to my house this morning, you idiot.” Draco says, “Take a look.”

Harry does, putting the bag on his lap, a large smile spreading on his face as he sees the bags of crisps.

“These are my favorite!” Harry exclaims, “You got me chocolate too! Draco!”

Draco smiles and flashes Ron a thumbs-up while Harry rips the packaging off the chocolate bar.

 

\o/

 

“Why is your hair all done up like that.” Harry says flatly, wrestling with his almost everything proof vest. The thing had too many straps and Harry’s hands are obviously not working.

“You are in no position to talk about anyone’s hair.” Draco replies flatly.

“We are busting a possible drug case. Or trafficking. I don’t know, could be both.” Harry says, realising that he had put the vest on backwards. “Fucker.”

Draco doesn’t seem to struggle this much with his vest, already clipping the straps into place and checking his mobility, Harry notes bitterly.

Draco looks very good in it too.  Harry wants to kiss him senseless. They are dating now, Harry can right? Wait, are they dating? They agreed on being casual. Well, Harry said casual first, cause this is _Draco_ , and Harry didn’t want to force him to do anything. Also, cause Harry panicked, a bit because he had a thought of _Huh, am I moving in to his place?_ which was followed by the thought of _domestically existing in Draco’s penthouse_.

“You need to loosen all the straps first before putting it on.” Draco says, his hands already on Harry’s vest and loosening the straps. Draco adjusts the vest this way and that, before tightening the straps efficiently, none of that oh wait which way crap that Harry does all the time.

“There.” Draco says, giving the Harry’s shirt a tug to straighten it out under the vest. He is smiling in that little self-satisfied quirk of his lips and Harry’s chest tightens. But that’s just the vest right? (Though it sits more comfortably than it had ever been when he did it himself)

“Thanks.” Harry manages, he clears his throat. “We should get going. Clemens said that her informant didn’t say which port.”

-

The team arrived at the port at 8pm, to quiet port-ly activities, machine noises and wind tossing dust around. Ron, who is heading the case talks to the manager on duty to get up to speed before splitting up the team into two to check both ends of the ports for a red ship with a tiger logo.

The ship is anchored and quiet when the found it on the left side’s furthest end, which according to the manager, had been closed for renovations.

They waited for 2 hours before a man drives up in a pick-up and levitates the concrete barriers aside for two container trucks to pull in.

The team observed in tense silence, wands at the ready as the man and his companions levitate the crates from the ship into the containers with the trucks engine still running.

“Ah mate, the rain this evening could have ruined the unicorn horns.” One of the man says, noticing the damp crate.

Ron gives the order and it quickly turned into a messy scuffle with spells being thrown around. They apprehended half of the criminals pretty quickly with full body binds.

One man made a run for the truck, driving away with the container door still open.

Harry gives it a chase, trying to cast while he runs. He sees that Draco doing the same, going another way to try to cut off the truck, appearing and disappearing from Harry’s line of sight as they dash through the stacks of container and construction equipment strewn around.

The truck driver leans out his side window, wand glowing as he too throws spells back at them, mostly missing.

Draco manages to explode the tyres, only for the truck to swerve and the truck driver’s spell to hit him in a flash of red.

Draco goes down like a sack of potatoes.

And Harry stops breathing for a moment before Draco lets out a stream of loud curses at the truck driver.

Someone catches the driver in a full body bind when he tries to escape on foot as Harry skids into a stop by Draco’s side.

Draco, ever efficient and clear headed, had already cast a spell to stopper the wound, although there is already a small pool of blood on the concrete.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck.” Harry says, unsure where to put his shaking hands. He settles on riffling through his robes for his port key to St Mungo’s.

“I’m fine. It’s just a cut.” Draco shrugs, like the gash on his thigh is not a big deal.

Harry nods, not looking at Draco. Where the fuck did he put the port key. Fuck.

“Harry.” Draco says, “Look at me. I’m fine. It’s just a cut.”

The port key is a cherry looking giraffe keychain which becomes a torchlight if you squeeze its head, and a port key if you squeeze its body. Harry’s hands are shaking as he holds out the keychain.

“My first thought is that I didn’t get to kiss you yet today.” Harry tries to joke, but he doesn’t sound convincing. “My second thought is that Mcgonagall will bring you back to life just to kill you again.”

“Mcgonagall would.” Draco winces, thinking about Mcgonagall’s disappointed face. She was brutal when she drilled them on shielding when throwing around spells, because more often than not people that DMLE had to throw spells at are more likely than not to also dabble in illegal spell-making.

“I like your first thought though,” Draco smirks, “What was it again?”

Harry looks away. “You need to go to St Mungo’s.”

“Just fucking kiss me already.” Draco says, and Harry does, grabbing onto Draco’s coat. It’s frantic and messy and they are both smiling too much to have their lips touching each other, and Draco got his own blood on Harry’s waist.

“For Fucks Sake, Potter.” Clarks yells.

\o/

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the 1982 poison pill murders  
> https://www.buzzfeed.com/unsolved/the-mysterious-poisoned-pill-murders
> 
> how large is the chocolate bar? Package Dimension: 41.6 x 16.6 x 1.6 cm.  
> https://www.amazon.co.uk/d/Chocolate-Bars-Blocks/Cadbury-Dairy-Large-Gifts-Direct/B015EF9LQY
> 
> i like your first thought inspired by this. my heart skipped i fucking swear.  
> http://dylan-obrien.tumblr.com/post/178523835561/kill-your-darlings-2013-dir-john-krokidas

**Author's Note:**

> im traineecryptid on tumblr and whatrpriorities on twitter (where its just me grumbling about real life)


End file.
